


Deconstruction of Thoughts

by brightpyrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3406220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightpyrite/pseuds/brightpyrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel prefers saccharine but Sam is the one exception he'll allow. In fact, Sam is really the exception to all of Gabriel's standards. Sam may have been unaware for the time being, but Gabriel always knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deconstruction of Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Gabriel's lengthened point of view of a spy-soulmate fic I wrote in 2k14, which is ["Too Much, But Not Enough"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2751578), because I wanted to make his pov and have synesthesia in it. read Sam's p.o.v too if you'd like more clarity.

Sam's name is a tasteful ripple of earthy colors across his vision, and if Gabriel is absolutely alone, the name echoes off the walls in his own haziness. The splotches of hazel and grass green speckle the edges of his peripheral vision every occurrence the name comes and he can't get enough of it. Sam Winchester. It's a sigh across his tongue; a dreadfully wondrous savory taste he can't get rid of completely once it reverberates within his mind, ringing in his ears.

He doesn't particularly hear it often from anyone else other than himself for obvious reasons. Sam was much more smarter than to just mouth off his name in the agency. The walls have eyes- and, huh, ears. In Gabriel's younger years, the wistfulness of soulmates was so out of his reach, and he found himself humming out the particular name over and over again like a broken record, out of pure incredulity. After all, it was bizarre, that the world was conspired to connect two random beings of the earth to click with each other's jigsaw puzzle heart. It was a screwed-up system and who _the fuck_ was pulling the strings? God? Why was he the marionette master and why did he even care?

Not only, that'd mean the love really was the world's enigma. Some days, he wished he was one of the few who never even was planted with a soulmate's name- knowing that they were the true liberated figures from God's control, he mused.

To be frank, Gabriel hadn't been surprised Sam was male; though he somewhat expected female nonetheless. Like a busty, attractive badass. But at least his order was still right, minus the bosom part. If anything, Sam probably has an impressive junk.  
Anyways, when he saw Sam's statistics during the enlistment year, Gabriel choked on his sucker and had to recover his reputation by saying, "This guy should be in a modeling agency, not a spy agency," to conceal the fact that he knew for a damn fact that he was looking at the first ever photo of his soulmate, that he'd ever seen.

Crowley and him fought over the alias of this man and Gabriel begrudgingly lost due to the Administrator having it "up to _here_ " with them arguing pettishly and just slapped down "Moose" as the official alias. In the beginning, Moose was a repulsive name, however he gradually accepted the equally warm tones it expelled. Cro-Magnon wasn't bad still, said name hummed blurry yellow and lime tints.

Sam Winchester (God, he wasn't ever going to get enough of the name itself) was assigned to a familiar field, identification detection which meant Gabriel wasn't going to see him very frequently, himself being in the disguise field, without appearing like a freakin' creep.  
Ironically, Apocalypse 2.0 rolled around to everyone's general dismay and concern, which also meant that Sam was almost immediately replaced into the file works like many other experts with a keen eye, after settling for only two months in his actual field. Imagine that, Sam, a total amateur to the functions of the agency, suddenly placed into a confidential division already.  
Damn, Gabriel already buzzed with a pride that was pretty disgusting, in his own opinion.

To his luck, it was his duty to check up on that specific division regularly, meaning he saw Sam quite regularly too. He'd wondered how to go about on talking to Sam, making an entrance and all, but in the end arrived as he normally would. Fashionably.

He first actually met Sam in the elevator, with another agent who had been showing Sam around the facility and the first thing he'd done was say, "Wow, you look better in real life," which appeared to have disconcerted Sam somewhat so he attempted to sour the sudden compliment by adding on. "I hope you don't expect your looks to get you anywhere here."

Sam knits his brows, not bothering to reciprocate other than a nod- maybe out of awkwardness or submission since Gabriel, codename Loki (but prefers The Trickster), was of much higher rank than he was.

Gabriel only laughs at the way Sam always noticed when he entered the center, the way he would immediately fixate his gaze away, to ensure that he'd sparked nothing. Nonetheless, Gabriel always found a way to wedge a comment in. 

"Loki," Sam would say, "I'd like to do my work without any trouble."

And Gabriel would always be stunned for a split second, by the wavers of gold and forest green streaks that emitted from Sam's speech and when he walks away, forcing a smirk and exclaiming something of Sam needing to loosen up, he will never get used to the ridiculously nice hum of Sam's voice, and every color that came with it. He never admitted that of course, that would be reckless and yet he still felt the urge to say something. 

Everyone in the workplace seemed to have been fully aware of Gabriel's antics and attempts to rile Sam up- they typically were fruitless and bore no reaction because Sam was no doubt embarrassed by the mass watching his verbal exchange with him. It was peculiar to think that Gabriel was only paying him special attention because they were soulmates, and no one else knew of this cause. Perhaps they just suspected that Sam was the perfect target of mockery from Gabriel's view.

Of course, he did not want to come off as grossly kind because Hell, that would gain everyone's attention quicker then if he was insulting someone straight-on. Castiel- or Thursday, depends on how you look at it- once pulled him aside to give him a whole entire spiel about respect and inhibitions. It took more than subtle hints for Castiel to understand that it wasn't Gabriel purposely bullying Sam because he liked it (well, flustering Sam is kind of fun), but because _other reasons_.  
His younger brother still frowned upon that, but whatever.

Other than in the workplace for Apocalyse 2.0, Gabriel only ever spots Sam in the lounge during his break, drinking coffee with one cream and sugar, and reading newspaper silently, avoiding to stir up commotion of any kind. His social flexibility appeared to be generally liked among the other agents, and Gabriel sometimes overheard the women talking about him and stifling chuckles. Which was kind of weird, because more than 98% of all people have a soulmate, so technically, they were cheating on their own by thinking of another person.

It would have peeved Gabriel, knowing that others were so affectionate with his soulmate, except for the fact that Sam barely ever responded to the remarks. At least someone was loyal to their actual partner-for-life.

He wasn't sure when he'll ever break it to Sam the news of his own name, but it happened oddly casual, because Gabriel a long-time agent would have given up his official name years ago, if he not clung so naïvely to the idea of a soulmate. In the case Gabriel goes by his real name- Gabriel A. Novak- and points it out on Sam's documents.  
He expected Sam to click the two together and stare up at him with confusement, but instead Sam blew up, pulling himself out of his chair, eyes full of bewilderment.

"That can't be true."

With these words, Gabriel knows Sam is going through a sudden extreme relevation, and Gabriel is poking at it with a sort of childish delight because it was happening. It was actually happening, and worth the weeks Gabriel spent pushing Sam's buttons trying to make him break and this is what happens.

Gabriel musters a scoff, rolling his eyes, attempting to stay calm, through the wisps of red, glowing and dark red that's scratching his peripheral vision and everything is hot with excitement. "Oh? And why wouldn't it?" Everyone's heads has whipped around once again to see Sam struggling to construct the right phrases in the right order while (hopefully) seeing Gabriel with his condescending smugness win the duel.

"Because it just can't!"

He pulls out a caramel sweet, inspecting it nonchalantly. Gabriel snorts, "Nice logic, Moose! That's the kind of thing I like to see from an ex-lawyer."

"Hey! Don't you want to know what my name is?" 

He's a step away from the leaving the room before he pulls away. "The real question is, how would I not already know?"

Another few ill-fitted attempts to retort correctly has Gabriel clapping a hand over Sam's shoulder and moving downward in a swift motion. As always, Gabriel has the last word, and tosses the candy to Sam, unwrapping the pastry that Sam stole in the lounge room earlier that day and taking a generous bite. He doesn't look back to see whether Sam was watching him exit or not.

They don't sought out to find each other, and Gabriel's attempts to mock Sam had reduced into almost nothing, and neither of them bring up the event that set them apart in the first place for a long while. Gabriel was not waiting for Sam to bring it up first per se, but he sure as Hell wasn't going to be the one to initiate it. These were like middle school days where some dork guy would confess his love for some chick and then they don't talk for the rest of the school year.

Either way, it's pretty awkward.

Days, weeks, months go by before Gabriel finds Sam waiting at the door of his office, wringing his tie and patting it to smooth it down.

"Moose," greets Gabriel smoothly, though the grip on his briefcase tightens, "I don't suppose you're here to thank me for being a great supervisor?"

"I'd like to talk," Sam says simply; bluntly.

Gabriel unlocks the door and flips the lightswitch, dumping his coat on the chair and dropping his briefcase beside the desk. "About...?"

"Don't act like you don't know," Sam suddenly bites out, shutting the door with a click, "did you know of this the minute you got my enlistment form?"

"Know of what?" Gabriel can't restrain the flicker of a smile that lapses in his expression for only a moment, and he looks up from his papers to see Sam's heavy stare upon him. He arches his brows as he slides into the seat behind his desk comfortably, "Sit down, Moose. I think you need to narrow it down for me a bit."

"Why are you still calling me Moose? You know my real name."

"Don't make this difficult," chides Gabriel evenly.

"You know my name, so why don't you use it?"

"It's in the guidelines, do I need to spell it out for you that I-"

Gabriel falters when Sam leans down on the desk, saying one simple thing.  
"Gabriel," Sam says with soft deliberation, and like that, Gabriel is done and the dabbles of pink and orange intensify into a deep red and gold across his vision and he can taste the faint scents of herb and nuts. His breath hitches, and it almost frustrates him to see Sam pull back just oh-so slightly with a smug expression that he's got Gabriel where he wants him.

Sam doesn't realize the excess sense he's giving Gabriel but it's fine because when he grunts out, "Sam," he can't help but jerk Sam's head down to his level and kiss him because he needs the savory taste to stay.

That's fine too, because Sam can't help but kiss him back.

**Author's Note:**

> this has less humor than I was hoping for, but okay. also, for those who do have synesthesia, am I romanticizing it too much? if I am, I apologize and will try to stay away from illnesses from now on.


End file.
